


The Continuing Misadventures of Derek and Stiles

by aveotardis



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aveotardis/pseuds/aveotardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek trusts Stiles. He regrets this decision on a near daily basis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Continuing Misadventures of Derek and Stiles

**Author's Note:**

> I was going through some of my old stories and I found this and figured I would publish it. Hope you enjoy!!

“Something tells me it’s not supposed to be bleeding this much,” Stiles said as he leaned closer to the deep wound in Derek’s side. At least it was leaking actual red blood instead of the gross black stuff like last time. Stiles tried to suppress the memory before it made him throw up.

“It’ll heal,” Derek replied harshly. “I’m more worried about the hunter waiting for us outside with a gun.”

Derek had a point. Not five minutes before, Stiles and Derek had been walking out the door in the midst of an argument about what the hell ever when a single gunshot cut through the air. Derek was quick to push Stiles back into the house, taking a bullet for his effort.

“Yeah, that could be a problem,” Stiles said in regards to the awaiting gunman. “I’ll call Scott.” He began to search his pockets for his phone. Derek was already shaking his head in dissention.

“I can’t trust Scott,” Derek said as he sat down heavily on the floor and pressed a clean washcloth over the wound.

“This isn’t about trust, alright, it’s about survival,” Stiles retorted, pushing his speed dial and bringing the phone to his ear. “Besides, I’m not asking you to trust Scott I’m asking you to trust me.”

To this Derek had no response. His only thought was to wonder how in the hell this annoying, skinny, brash, loud, hyperactive teenager had become the only person he could trust.

\--

“This is all your fault,” Derek said as they stared at the ruins of what had once been an ice cream parlor. It was a shame as it had been Stiles’ favorite place to go for frozen treats. Now it smoked and popped even hours after being put out by the fire department.

“I honestly thought it was a good idea at the time,” Stiles said in a monotone voice. Nearby the Sheriff was questioning a witness, who could not actually describe what he had seen. Stiles looked at Derek and gave a shrug. “How was I supposed to know leprechauns aren’t really afraid of fire?”

\--

“This is a bad idea.”

“You’re the one who thought of it.”

“Yeah, that’s how I know it’s bad.”

\--

Somehow Stiles ended up driving Derek’s car to the gas station at four in the morning. The only thing keeping him awake was his ADHD and half a can of energy drink. Feeling jittery, Stiles rushed into the all night station and spun around in a futile circle before finding exactly what he had come for.

He took the peanut butter covered in chocolate candy bar to the cashier and paid with a lump of cash he found in the pocket of his jeans. The man behind the counter looked at Stiles, looked out the window to the car parked in the space nearest to the door, saw the man half-passed out in the passenger side, and returned to Stiles with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles did not even try to come up with a reason.

“Here,” Stiles said as he settled back behind the wheel, handing the candy bar to Derek. Derek ripped the proffered snack out Stiles’ hand and began to eat it desperately. “So this happens every full moon?”

Derek nodded, but upon seeing the humored look on Stiles’ face added, “You tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

\--

“I’ll kill him,” the female Alpha said as she added the slightest bit of pressure to Stiles’ windpipe. Derek could feel the heat of anger rise in his chest but he made no move of attack. He forced himself to breath.

“Let him go,” Derek said through clenched teeth. Stiles was making some sort of twitchy hand motion which momentarily distracted his captor.

“What are y-” before the female Alpha could finish, however, Stiles jabbed his elbow sharply into her abdomen. His foot shot out, the heel hitting against her shin, breaking the bone. She wailed out in pain and released her hold on Stiles.

Stiles instantly pulled away, falling in a jumble of limbs on the floor. Derek bared his fangs and sprung for the woman as soon as Stiles scrambled to a safe distance. She was caught off guard by the attacks so at first put up little resistance. However, she was quickly clawing at Derek’s face and neck hard enough to draw blood.

Derek managed to ensnare one of her arms in hand, but her other claw drew back, poised to strike his jugular. Stiles screamed something that even he was not entirely certain what it was, an instinctual, guttural declaration of horror. Before the fatal blow could be struck there was a blur of metal flying through the air, at once hitting the woman in the head.

Both Derek and Stiles looked to see Peter, standing over the prone form of the woman with a twelve inch metal cooking pan in his hand. Derek quirked his eyebrow at such a weapon and Stiles could not help but let out a sharp laugh.

“Shut up,” Peter said to them both, “it was all I could find on short notice.”

\--

It started like this: Derek heard a knock at the door one bright spring morning. He rolled his eyes and bit back some witty remark about Peter forgetting his key again. When he opened the door there stood Stiles. Derek took one look at him, said “No,” and made to shut the door in the kid’s face.

Stiles, being the annoying little brat that he was, stuck his foot in the door’s path. Luckily, Derek had not put much strength behind shutting the door or Stiles would be missing a foot.

“I want you to teach me how to fight,” Stiles stumbled out quickly. Derek opened the door ever so slightly, intrigued. “I’m tired of feeling useless, of watching everyone around me getting hurt and not being able to do a damn thing.” Stiles swallowed harshly and looked at Derek with the biggest, most pleading brown eyes he could muster. “Please.”

Derek let out a low groan and opened the door all the way, gesturing a hand for Stiles to enter. A smile erupted immediately on the teenager’s face. Stiles quickly took the silent invitation before Derek could rethink what was surely the most idiotic decision he had ever made. 


End file.
